


Flashin' Before My Eyes

by BlackHunter666



Category: Original Work
Genre: Car Accidents, Friendship, Gen, Housemates, Music, Reunions, Violent Deaths, bandmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 03:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2531633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackHunter666/pseuds/BlackHunter666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five friends, one band. Three tragedies and it's all gone. The last one standing remembers her friends as she waits in a wrecked car. Exactly what she's waiting for, she's not sure.</p>
<p>Warning: contains foul language, drunken behaviour and a couple of severe car crashes with the associated blood and gore. If these are triggers for you, do not read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flashin' Before My Eyes

 It's never a good thing to hear the bathroom door open when you're in the middle of a shower, especially when you're the only girl living in a house with four guys. Reacting on pure instinct, I grabbed the nearest weapon and lobbed it over the shower wall towards the door.  
'Ahh! What the hell!'  
'I could ask ya the same fuckin' thing, Jamie!' I shot back, washing the soap from my face and peeking out from behind the curtain. 'You can't say you didn't hear the shower runnin'.'  
'I thought Steve was in here.' Jamie replied, blindly stumbling trying to find the basin.  
'Two steps to your left, one ahead.' I guided, shaking my head slowly. 'Next time, ask.'  
'What is going on in here?' Jason asked, appearing in the doorway. 'She got you again, huh?'  
'Oh shut up.' Jamie groused, turning the tap on and washing the soap from his eyes.  
'Hey! A little warnin'!' I yelped, launching out from under the spray as it went ice cold.  
'Payback.' Jamie countered, still scrubbing at his face.  
'You know it's never wise to play that game with me, Jamie.' I snorted, rolling my eyes. 'Hey Jason, mind tossing back the soap?'  
'Don't, she'll only toss it again.' Jamie sighed, flicking his hair out of his eyes and swiping the water off his face. 'Vicious woman.'  
'Face it; you'd get bored if I wasn't around.' I laughed, catching the soap and putting it back in the dish. 'Thanks Jason.'  
'Maybe, but I'd sure be safer.' Jamie shrugged, towelling off his hair and rubbing at the red mark on his forehead.  
'Someone's got to keep you on your toes.' I grinned, ducking back behind the shower curtain. 'Now get the fuck out of here.'  
'I am not pissing on the house plants. Might be okay for Jerry but I've got standards.' Jamie shot back, keeping his back to the shower and avoiding looking in the mirror.  
'Keep it up Jamie and she'll brain you with more than a bar of soap.' Jason warned, fully aware of what my temper can be like.  
'You've got no more standards than anyone else here. Go pee in the courtyard if you're really that desperate.' I sighed, once more wondering why I stayed here when I was so heavily out numbered.  
'You know he only does that when he'd drunk, Sam.' Jason laughed, quick to get in a dig when the chance was presented.  
'Says the guy…' Jamie started and I knew this was going to get out of hand real fast.  
'Guys! That's enough!' I snapped, shutting off the water and reaching for my towel. 'All I wanted was a little damned peace and quiet.'  
  
Wrapping my towel securely around my chest, I threw the curtain open and stepped out, grabbing a second towel for my hair as I stepped past Jamie. He wisely got the hell out of my way, backing up against the wall as I wrapped my hair up and grabbed my jewellery from the vanity before shoving out past Jason.  
'It can't be that time again, surely.' Jason muttered, likely glancing at Jamie for support.  
'You know Sam; she's got a temper to match that flaming hair of hers.'  
'Keep it up fellas; I do so enjoy leaving bruises.' I hissed, slipping into my bedroom and slamming the door shut.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Whoa, okay then. Let me back this up a few steps and introduce you to the gang. We're a bunch of misfits, drawn together through an enjoyment of music and of course, drinking. It all started when I saw Jason playing on a street corner and jumped right in beside him without hesitation. The two of us would busk on corners and subway stations, trying to land a gig or maybe a few other members to form a proper band. Jamie stumbled into our lives a few months later, down on his luck with nothing to his name but the clothes on his back and a battered old banjo over his shoulder. Jerry came along a couple weeks after him, having lost his job and decided to hit the road to find a better opportunity elsewhere. Steve's the newest member of our crazy little group, he arrived last month and so far he seems to be settling into our group fairly well.  
  
We survive on the money we make singing at pubs, functions and festivals around the region, along with the pay checks that Steve, Jerry and I bring in. Jamie had a job for a while but he mouthed off to the wrong person and got fired. Jason spends most of his time trying to keep the band running so he doesn't really have a lot of time to work. I don't begrudge him that, it's not easy to keep five such varying personalities working together. But sometimes I wish Jamie would actually try a little harder to pick up some work.  
  
Right now we have a three bedroom rental and yeah, it's pretty cosy when all five of us are home. I feel kind of sorry for Steve, he ended up stuck sharing the second bedroom with Jamie. I've got the smallest room, furthest from the bathroom and right next to Steve and Jamie. Jerry and Jason, share the master bedroom and seem to be able to make it work, though it's clear they both want something bigger. I'd like something bigger but this is the biggest we can afford right now.  
  
So there you go, that's a little bit about this crazy group of friends. We're often at each other's throats but we all know that if the band fails, we've got nothing much to fall back on to keep us sane. We often trade barbs and regularly throw punches but at the end of every fight, we share a few drinks and put the anger aside for a while. Don't worry, I'll tell you a bit more about the gang later but right now, back to the story.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Dressing in a knee length skirt and singlet, I finished drying off my hair and hung my towels behind the door before settling at my dresser to comb out my hair. As Jamie stated, I've got brilliant red hair and I wear it particularly long. So it always took a while to dry and comb out then twist it up so it wasn't constantly in the way.  
  
Pulling the thick mass over my shoulder, I was just starting to get into a rhythm of combing and smoothing out my hair when someone knocked on my door. Definitely wasn't Jason or Jerry, it was far too soft for their large hands. I really hoped it wasn't Jamie, I still hadn't forgiven him for the shower incident.  
'Yeah, I'm decent.' I called, continuing to gently unpick the knots that had developed during the wash and dry.  
'Jason told me what happened with Jamie.' Steve offered, entering and closing the door behind him quietly. 'Sorry, I said I was thinkin' of goin' for a shower but changed me mind.'  
'Don't worry 'bout it Steve. Don't matter who was in there, he shouldn't have come barging in like that.' I shrugged, focusing on a particularly large knot that had appeared. 'He's had problems understanding personal space since the day we met him.'  
'Don't be so hard on him.' Steve replied, settling on my bed. 'He's not such an ass once you get to know him.'  
'Know him? He's been a part of my life for almost eighteen months. He didn't have much to his name when I met him and he still don't have much.' I scoffed, reaching for my spray treatment to help with this nasty knot. 'The least he could do is get off his ass and get a job.'  
'I still think ya bein' too hard on him.' Steve corrected, reaching up to release his own hair from his work bun. 'I share a room with him, I know a different side of Jamie.'  
'Alright then, enlighten me Steve. What's so special about Jamie that gives him the right to be a total ass to everyone around him?' I questioned, finally managing to unpick the knot and comb it out straight.  
  
Getting up again, Steve moved to stand behind me and plucked the comb from my hand, gathering up my hair in the other and starting to work at the knots. He'd done this a few times over the last month, it seemed to relax him when he was wound up and I certainly appreciated the help.  
'I'm not sayin' he's got a right to be an ass to everyone, I'm just sayin' that he's got issues.' Steve sighed, meeting my eyes in the mirror. 'Ever been hurt by someone you thought you could trust?'  
'More times than I care to admit.' I replied, not quite sure what he was getting at but I was willing to listen to Steve.  
'And when you first met Jamie, he didn't have much to his name, right?' Steve continued, unpicking another knot he'd found.  
'The clothes on his back and a battered banjo. He looked…dear Lord…' I recalled, eyes widening as I realised what Steve was pointing me towards. 'He's really got no one.'  
'He's not being an ass on purpose, he's just lacking basic social skills. He's never known true kindness.' Steve nodded, meeting my gaze again even as he combed through my hair. 'So what's your excuse?'  
'You'll leave me with a rat nest if I blame me Irish blood, won't ya?' I asked, mostly joking around with him. 'I was raised to meet like with like. Jamie was an ass to me from day one so I'm an ass right back to him.'  
'Even though that's totally unfair.' Steve sighed, reaching for the spray treatment. 'Is it too much to ask to give him another try?'  
'I will if he's willing.' I allowed, holding out the second comb I used for really serious knots. 'Have you mentioned this to Jerry or Jason yet.'  
'Not yet. One step at a time. Besides, I figure if I can get you back onside, they'll follow along behind.' Steve chuckled, finally getting the knot loose and smoothing out the strands.  
  
Relaxing into Steve's gentle hands, I considered the little insight I'd just gained. Perhaps I had misjudged Jamie, he did seem to try and keep the house in reasonable order but still, the fact he didn't try to add to our income irked me a lot. Even a part time job would be better than having him hanging around the house all day.  
'So, how was work today?' I asked, deciding to worry about Jamie later.  
'Mind-numbing. I spent the entire day inventorying and restacking shirts.' Steve sighed, catching my eye in the mirror again. 'You?'  
'There's a reason I took a shower as soon as I got home. We had a quiet day so it was cleaning and I got stuck doing the vents above the stove.' I groaned, handing him one of my bandanas to tie my hair back with.  
'Well, you don't smell greasy anymore.' he grinned, guiding my head back and unfolding the grey cloth. 'At least I had some time to consider a couple of new jokes for our next gig.'  
  
Adjusting my bandana to sit properly, I pushed to my feet and stretched just as someone else knocked on the door quickly.  
'Yes Jamie?' I called, glancing at Steve as I shook my hair out quickly.  
'Jerry's on the phone. Wants to know what you guys want to eat.' Jamie explained, leaning in the doorframe with his phone extended.  
'Sushi.' Steve replied, grabbing one of my spare combs and starting in on a tangle in his hair.  
'Make that two for sushi.' I nodded, fighting back my smirk at the queasy look on Jamie's face.  
'You get that, Jerry?' he asked, returning his phone to his ear. 'Yeah, they both want sushi. Ugh, I'll stick to pizza.'  
'And see if he can grab me another pack of cigarettes on the way home. I'll pay him back when he gets here, I just forgot in my hurry to shower.' I added, taking over the untangling duties.  
'Sam wants cigarettes. She's got the money here.' Jamie nodded, pushing off the doorframe. 'He's on it Sam. Jason asked as well.'  
'Thanks Jerry.' I called, turning back to my dresser. 'I don't get it. You'll eat seafood on a pizza but sushi turns ya guts.'  
'It's the fact it's raw fish.' Jamie shrugged, closing the door behind him.  
'What's the bet if we got some with cooked fish he'd bolt it down?' Steve smirked, adjusting his own bandana and settling back on the corner of my bed.  
'No bet. We'd be hard pressed getting it past Jerry.' I returned, fastening my emerald shamrock around my neck and smiling softly at the memory of my parents.  
'Did you notice? You treated Jamie nice and he responded with a smile.' Steve noted, leaning back on his hands.  
'I noticed. Time will tell how long this lasts.' I nodded, doing one last check of my appearance and smoothing out my skirt. 'Come on, we'd better go be social.'  
'No doubt Jason will have gigs to brief us on for this weekend.' Steve agreed, getting up and following me out of my room.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Yeah, my life is unconventional. I know. I'm a single woman living with four guys and no, I'm not engaged in a sexual relationship with any of them. That's not saying I'm not tempted, of course I am but I don't want our music to suffer because we got too close. Sure, I'd like a permanent boyfriend but I'm having way too much fun with my life to dream of spoiling this with an attachment to any one guy.  
  
What I do on stage would drive any man to murder, I know this and I have no intention of stopping. I stand up on stage in a short skirt, boots and a low cut top, singing and dancing with the guys to earn some extra cash. I play a few simple instruments but my main job is to dance and get the men in the audience to throw a little extra in the tip hat we put at the front for every performance. Usually we make a good wage at each show, the crowds seem to appreciate our disturbed sense of humour.  
  
We've got a few regular gigs we perform, weekends mostly but we are willing to take on weekday work as well, provided it's worth the loss in wages for us. We've even done a few weddings, but only after the bride and groom have seen a couple of our shows so they know exactly what we're all about. Most of the time the couples are happy to pay for us, so long as we tone down the filth as much as possible.

~#~#~#~#~#~

_Fifteen men on a dead man's chest_  
 _Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum_  
 _Drink and the devil had done for the rest_  
 _Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum._  
 _We wrapped 'em all in a mains'l tight_  
 _With twice ten turns of a hawser's bight_  
 _And we heaved 'em over and out of sight,_  
 _With a Yo-Heave-Ho! and a fare-you-well_  
 _And a sudden plunge in the sullen swell_  
 _Ten fathoms deep on the road to hell,_  
 _Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!_

Lowering my arms and flicking my hips to set my sparkling coin skirt jingling again, I smiled and stepped back, accepting my tankard from Jerry with a nod. So far it had been a great night, we were two hours into a four hour gig and the crowd was jumping. Jason had already been forced to empty the hat twice just so it didn't overflow and their dirty jokes were going down an absolute treat.  
  
Circling around behind Jason, I grabbed the end of his long bandana and wiped my face, earning a few chuckles from those who saw what I was up to. Slapping on a grin, I came out from behind Jason and raised my tankard.  
'Let's have a toast!' I cried, smirking as Jamie gave me a wary look. 'Cheers to men who are BIG! Cheers to men who are small! Cheers to men who think they are BIG but really aren't at all! But the ones we raise our glasses to in the middle of the night, are the ones that go from small to BIG and stick it in just right!'  
'You been sneakin' peeks again, Sam?' Jason asked, lowering his tankard slowly.  
'Can ya blame a lass? The only real problem is pickin' the best man for any job.' I countered, causing Steve to choke on his drink.  
'Oh Jaysus.' Jamie groaned, cheeks blazing bright red as he turned away.  
'Here's to women, the fruit of the vine, they bloom once a month, and bear fruit every nine. They're the only creature this side of hell, who can bring juice from a nut without breaking the shell!' Jerry offered, raising his tankard and setting Steve off again.  
  
Reaching over, Jason smacked Steve firmly between the shoulders to help clear his airway as the crowd roared with laughter. We'd been doing a pretty good job of keeping them in stitches since we started and it was really paying off for us this time. Now we just had to bring it home and secure another semi-permanent weekend contract.  
'Take it off! Take it off! Oh great, now a couple of guys in the back corner have started to get rowdy. This happens from time to time but that doesn't mean I like it. I've come to expect it though, there's always a few that take things in an inappropriate direction.  
  
Before I could respond to the drunks, Jason put his drum aside and pulled off his patched and worn shirt, tossing it behind him and picking up his drum again. Reaching up, I straightened his bandana quickly and glancing over towards where the heckling had come from. The guys there looked horrified by what had just happened and I laughed.  
'Remember guys, just because a girl ain't wearing much, she ain't easy.' I taunted, making a note to get something special to say thanks to Jason. I knew he didn't like stripping off in public but he'd done it to keep me out of trouble.  
'Put it on! Put it on!' now the ladies were getting going, not at all enjoying the way the show was going suddenly.  
'Now let me explain how this works. You can't have it both ways. Either the drunks who called for a strip show leave or you ladies leave. One way or the other, someone is leaving.' Jamie called, pointing to the two problematic groups. 'So what's it gonna be? Lads or lasses out the door?'  
'I say send 'em all out for disrespectin' Sam and Jason.' Steve called, his sentiment echoed by quite a few people in the crowd.  
  
Likely realising that they'd only get thrown out if they didn't go quietly, both groups stood and left the bar, but not without throwing a few dirty looks over their shoulders at us. I wasn't bothered, we didn't need to put up with heckling like that when we were just trying to have fun.  
'Let's have another song.' Jerry suggested, putting his bottle down.  
'And I know just the one.' Jason nodded, starting to tap out a rhythm and waiting for the others to pick up what he was thinking.

_Well, Scotsman clad in kilt,_  
 _left the bar one evenin' fair._  
 _And one could tell by how he walked,_  
 _that he'd drunk more than his share._  
 _He fumbled 'round until he could_  
 _no longer keep his feet,_  
 _then he stumbled off into the grass_  
 _to sleep beside the street._

~#~#~#~#~#~

You've got to have fairly thick skin to survive doing these gigs, the people aren't always kind and sometimes things get a little out of hand. I can still remember the first gig we played after Jamie joined us. He managed to get into a bar fight, I still can't figure out how but with Jason hard pressed to keep the brawlers away from our gear, I had to go in there after Jamie.  
  
Tugging on one of Jamie's spare shirts and wrapping a second bandeau around my chest, I spun my hair up into a rough twist and plunged into the fight. Launching my fists with painful accuracy, I pushed through the brawl as quickly as I could. This was where I felt most at home, I'd spent a lot of years getting into barroom brawls just like this one.  
  
Working right to the heart of the fight, I grabbed Jamie by the collar and turned, blocking an incoming barstool on my raised forearm. Spinning my hand over, I caught one of the snapped legs from the stool and swung it hard, clubbing two burly men to the ground and moving into the gap. Jamie kept trying to pull away from me so I yanked him back in close and hissed a warning of what was at stake if he didn't pull his head in and work with me.  
  
It still took us a good ten minutes to get back out of the heart of the fight and I shoved Jamie towards Jason as I turned back to the brawlers and held the stool leg out in front of me in a clear warning. There were a few brainless brawlers who thought they could take me but they misjudged me for my small size and didn't think that this little Irish lass might have come from the mean streets. I took them easily enough, but one did get me with a broken bottle, leaving a bloody gash down my right arm.  
  
Between us, the security guys at the bar and the local police that finally arrived on scene, we soon had the situation back under control and I ripped off the shirt I'd borrowed, wrapping it around my bloody arm. I ended up spending the rest of the night at the hospital, Jason freaked out when he saw the damage done to my arm and insisted I get checked over. He blamed Jamie for it, said that if he hadn't been so busy trying to prove himself, I wouldn't have been hurt. Sure, Jamie leapt off the stage and plunged into the fight but I made the choice to stand out the front and remain exposed as the battle raged.

~#~#~#~#~#~

_Oh, all the money e'er I had, I spent it in good company._  
 _And all the harm that ever I've done, alas it was to none but me._  
 _And all I've done for want of wit to mem'ry now I can't recall;_  
 _So fill to me the parting glass, Good night and joy be with you all._  
  
 _If I had money enough to spend, and leisure time to sit awhile._  
 _There is a fair maid in this town, that sorely has my heart beguiled._  
 _Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips, I own, she has my heart in thrall;_  
 _Then fill to me the parting glass, Good night and joy be with you all._  
  
 _Oh, all the comrades e'er I had, they're sorry for my going away._  
 _And all the sweethearts e'er I had, they'd wished me one more day to stay._  
 _But since it falls unto my lot, that I should rise and you should not,_  
 _I gently rise and softly call, Goodnight and joy be with you all._

Finishing my song, I smiled softly and bowed my head, grateful the set was at an end and with it, this particular gig. Sure, the crowd had been generous but the heckling had gotten really bad and we'd had to get security to evict at least a third of the partons. Jason had already given the subtle signal that we wouldn't be coming back here for a long time.  
'Alright folks, that's it for us tonight. It's been great to play for ya and we hope to see ya around somewhere in the future.' Jerry called, setting his guitar down.  
'ladies and gentlemen, and right now I'm using that address loosely, if you'd like to take our music home come up and see us right now. We've got four albums on sale, going right back to when we were just a duet playin' on street corners.' Jason added, slinging one arm around my shoulders.  
'But before we truly wrap this up, let's have one more toast!' Jamie cried, raising his hip flask since his last drink had been knocked over. 'You can booze it in the east.'  
'Ya can booze it in the west.' Steve added, lifting his glass.  
'But when ya boozin' with JaSa.' I continued, so proud of the band name Jason and I had decided on and kept through the changes.  
'Ya boozin' with the best.' five in harmony and the perfect end to a rough night.  
  
Of course, we all should have realised it couldn't be so simple. I really should have known, I'd always had an instinct for reading crowds and I missed it completely. Some drunken bastard came stumbling forward, demanding another set and lashed out at Steve. Steve tried to dodge it but he was right on the edge of the stage and half-blacked by Jerry's shoulder. With a sickening crunch, the drunkard's fist slammed into Steve's face and dropped him to the floor.  
'You little shit!' Jamie roared, launching off the stage full stretch and tackling the drunk to the ground. 'You're gonna pay for that.'  
'Just hold him 'til the police get here.' Jerry instructed, already pulling out his phone.  
  
Kneeling down, I eased Steve up to sit and caught the spare shirt Jason tossed my way, folding it and pressing it to his bloody face. By the looks of things, that one hit had really made a mess of Steve's face and I just knew we were going to be spending another night at the hospital.  
'How bad is it, Sam? Jason asked, watching the crowd for any more threats.  
'Definitely broken, I can feel the bone grinding under my fingers.' I replied, gently pulling Steve's hair back out of the way. 'Find a bit of string or something.'  
'This'll do.' Jason shrugged, slipping off a braided band he wore around his wrist and tying Steve's hair back out of the way. 'You want to take him while we pack up?'  
'Well fuck.' Steve groaned, tipping his head forward and leaning into my side. 'Fuck.'  
'It could always be worse, Steve.' I uttered, tensing up when someone came too close but it was just one of the bar staff.  
'Here, this should help.' she smiled, holding out a bag of ice wrapped in a cloth.  
'Thanks.' I grinned, taking the ice and coaxing Steve to lower his hand. 'This might sting a little but it should work wonders.'  
  
It seemed to take the police forever to arrive but when they did, they tried to arrest Jamie instead of the drunkard. Jason quickly got that sorted out, explaining patiently that Jamie had only been trying to stop the situation from escalating and pointing at Steve, still bloodied on the stage. Once we'd given our reports, I eased Steve to his feet and guided him away, catching the keys Jerry threw to me with a nod.

~#~#~#~#~#~

We were all left with dozens of scars from brawls and confrontations that got out of hand. Okay, Jamie and I probably had more than our fair share but that's what happens when you spend your life on the means streets, where everyone is looking to kick you when you're down and try to make you stay down. The weak break and the strong soon gather a map of scars to tell their darkened tale in painful memories and reminders.  
  
We tried to keep Steve from adding to his collection too much, he'd come to us from a good home and a reasonably happy life. Most of his scars were from stupid childhood accidents and one crash when he'd first taken to motorcycles. When a brawl broke out, he tended to move back and defend our gear, leaving the rest of us to try and keep a space between whatever stage we had and the brawl. It became a running joke on how many scars we might get at the end of every gig.  
  
That joke ended after Steve took that punch to the nose, it wasn't so funny after seeing the gentlest member of our group with his face all swollen and a splint to hold his nose at least close to straight while the bones and cartilage healed up. He refused to perform while he was wearing the splint and even after the doctor cleared him, he never sounded quite right when he came back on the road with us.  
  
We adapted though, we changed our harmony and reworked some of our songs so it wasn't as clear that Steve wasn't back to his absolute best. I don't think anyone ever noticed and if they did, they never said anything. If they did, Jason and Jerry made damned sure Jamie and I never caught wind of it, they knew we'd go anyone who said anything against Steve.

~#~#~#~#~#~

After fifteen years together, JaSa is no more.  There's only two of us left now, the others are all gone. Sometimes I wonder what might have been if life had been kinder to us but I have come to accept our losses. It hurts so much to remember our glory days, we had so much possibility and everything seemed to be going our way, even if it was still a bit of a struggle financially.  
  
Jason was first to go, he died doing what he loved most - playing our usual Friday night gig. He never saw it coming, just dropped dead right there on the stage. Heart attack, he was only 37. There was no warning, one moment he was slapping out the bass rhythm of Finnegan's Wake and the next, he was sprawled out on the stage.  
  
Even with the aid of a couple of off duty paramedics that had been in the audience, we lost Jason before anyone could even think to call 911. We cancelled the gig right there, packed up and locked our gear in the van before taking up a vigil over our mate. Between us, we made certain there was always someone with Jason, not always right there at his side but always close enough for us to know we were there for him.  
  
I can still remember his funeral, it just about killed me to stand by his grave and offer a few heartfelt words about the man that had changed my life. Jason had no family besides us but his funeral was attended by most of our regulars. I'd like to think he would have smiled at that sight but I'm not one to believe in an afterlife.  
  
We tried to keep JaSa going but without Jason, we were missing our bass rhythm and we struggled for gigs. Our regular clients stuck with us though, booking us week after week. It took us a while to find our feet again without Jason to ground us. They were kind enough and forgave us for any substandard performances as we figured out how to move forward without Jason.  
  
We were all hurting and our relationships were strained to the point where we wouldn't even talk to each other outside practise and performances. It all came to a head when Jerry found Jamie sobbing in the courtyard, clutching one of Jason's bandanas to his chest. He sat and slipped one arm around Jamie's back, not saying a word as he offered a shoulder to lean on.  
  
Steve found them a few hours later, Jamie now curled up in Jerry's lap as they both held the worn blue cloth and spoke quietly of Jason's legacies to each of them. Leaving them to their grief, Steve retrieved three more of the bandanas we'd kept scattered about the house and took me by the hand, leading me out into the courtyard.  
  
It was Steve who came up with the idea that we take to wearing Jason's bandanas in his memory, a silent tribute to the man who pulled us together. Jamie was reluctant at first, he didn't want to disturb the memory of Jason around the house but as Steve loosely wrapped a patched grey and white cloth around his neck, he just relaxed and brushed his fingers over the cloth.  
  
So it was that we took to reminding people of Jason with every performance, each of us wearing our tribute in our own way. Jerry wore his as Jason had, the long tails hanging down his back and swaying with every motion. Steve replaced his own, smaller ones with Jason's, weaving the tails around his hair to keep everything neat and contained. Me, well I put Jason's tribute close to my heart, wrapping his bandana around my chest and making sure to always show the little ship's wheel pin he wore on his shirts.

~#~#~#~#~#~

I'll always remember one particular gig, not because it was anything special but because we just had one of those nights when everything went right for us, sometimes in the most unexpected of ways. We found something magical that night, something we never found again unfortunately. But I digress, let me tell you about this great gig that really was a highlight of our career.  
  
It started out just like any other gig, we belted out a dozen songs and took a breather, throwing around a few suggestions for some other gags we could try and work into the routine since the crowd seemed open to some of our dirtier jokes and really cheeky gags. Jerry uttered one that he'd been thinking about for a while and we agreed that it was worth taking a shot at it.  
  
Returning to our places and reconnecting with our audience, Jamie and I offered up another toast about drinking with friends as Steve moved his second mic closer and turned to pick up his bodhrán in readiness for our next song. But as he bent over to grab it, he let rip with one hell of a fart, right into the microphone.  
'What the hell Steve?' I yelped, jumping away from him and thankfully not slopping my drink over my hand. 'That's just nasty.'  
'It slipped out.' Steve replied, flushing red as he spun around. 'That was not meant to happen.'  
'Damn it Steve, did something crawl up there and die?' Jamie groused, waving one hand in front of his face.  
'Nah, he ate the last of the bean chilli before we got on stage.' Jerry replied, also backing away from Steve. 'I told him that was a bad idea.'  
'Sweet Jaysus, someone save us.' someone in the front row of the audience called, getting up and moving back quickly.  
'Outside with you!' Jamie and Jerry snapped, both pointing towards the exit.  
'Steve, would you please fetch my other wrap from the van, it's a little chilly in here.' I requested, giving him another out. 'I'd go but…'  
'Say no more, Sam.' Steve grinned, handing me his bodhrán. 'Those two need someone to lead them or they'll make a mess of this.'  
'Thank ya Steve.' I grinned, resettling the bodhrán on my left hand and hoping I could remember how to do this. It had been a while since I'd played the bodhrán and I knew I was a little out of practise. I'd had to take over the bass rhythm to keep the sound steady.  
  
I'd turned into a real Jack-of-all-trades now, well I guess I was a Sam-of-all-trades but you get the point. I carried the bass with my feet, sang and danced and still picked up a few other instruments when it was necessary. It was exhausting work but with Steve taking over the actual booking of gigs, Jerry making sure all out gear was in good working order and Jamie stepping up to manage our merchandise, we managed it.  
  
Belting out Finnegan's Wake, now much more comfortable with singing what had been Jason's final song, we angled in towards our next gag just as Steve returned to the stage and started to clap along. Perfect.  
'O Tim, mavourneen, why did you die?' Jamie belted out, his thick brogue so perfect for the line.  
'Drama queen.' Steve countered, rolling his eyes quickly.  
'Regular queen.' Jerry responded, pointing at Steve for a second.  
'Dairy queen.' Jamie answered, slapping Jerry in the gut lightly.  
'nothin' here fellas.' I smirked, lowering the bodhrán and looking at my chest.  
'Oh Jaysus.' the guys groaned as the crowd cracked up laughing at the smooth delivery of a great gag. It really was beautifully delivered, natural and comfortable just like we liked our jokes to feel.

~#~#~#~#~#~

We had a routine for every gig, the roles would always cycle but the idea was always the same. Two vehicles, a van and an SUV. One person drove the van with all our gear while the rest of the band led the way in the SUV. To us, it was a comfortable reminder of better times, when we'd laugh and joke on the radio as we drove to another gig somewhere in this beautiful country we called home.  
  
Coming home from one such gig, I witnessed my whole world come crashing down. The road was slick with rain and Jerry lost control of the SUV he was driving. It flipped and rolled, throwing up a shower of sparks as it skidded along the street. My heart was in my throat as I watched the crash happen, the world in slow motion around me. A part of my mind wanted me to just haul the wheel hard to the left and spin out, ending in a sparking wreck but the stronger part clung to the hope someone had survived.  
  
By the time I parked the van and reached  the wreck, I accepted that JaSa would never again grace the stages of the district but I was unprepared for the horrors I found. There was blood absolutely everywhere, personal property scattered across the saturated road and I knew deep down that this was going to cause untold pain for years to come.  
  
Steve slumped over the wheel, face a bruised and bloody mess. He was barely even recognizable as my dear friend, he'd taken such a pounding in the crash. It broke my heart to see him so badly hurt. He was always such a gentle soul, he deserved so much better than this. With tears in my eyes, I reached out to brush his hair back from his face, watching his blood soak into Jason's bandana.  
  
Jamie was trapped in the passenger seat, blood all over him but I could just see him breathing. He at least looked like he always did, once I managed to look beneath the gore. The bandana around his throat had been pulled tight, caught up on a scrap of metal. Pulling out the pocket knife I always carried, I sawed through the cloth quickly, apologising to Jason's memory as I eased Jamie back against the chair and checked his pulse.  
  
In the back, Jerry had taken the worst of the impact, his body a twisted lump of torn flesh and bone fragments down in the foot wells. My guess, he'd stretched out to try and sleep on the trip home. That choice had cost him his life. I stumbled away from the wreck and threw up, fighting back tears of pain, grief and frustration as I spat and wiped my mouth. I had to be strong, my brothers still needed me and I'd be damned if I was going to give up on them.  
  
Returning and crawling in through the shattered windscreen, I crouched in the wreckage and clutched at Jamie and Steve, not sure what else to do for them. I could hear the sirens in the distance and kept trying to reassure them that help was coming and they would be just fine. The a moment I was almost sure I heard Jamie groan and felt Steve squeeze my hand a little tighter as I spoke to them.  
  
I stayed with them even as emergency services started to arrive and examine the wreck. I swore at one of them when they jostled Steve by accident and he groaned in pain, one soft grey eye cracking open at the shock. Softly, I reassured him that I was with him and he relaxed again, managing to squeeze my fingers for a brief moment. I wasn't sure how long I could hold it together for them but I had to try. The guys needed me to be strong and see them through this.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Basket of clean laundry on his hip, Steve wandered through from the courtyard and set the basket down on the couch, sorting the laundry into four smaller baskets he'd already set out.  
'Any bright ideas?' he asked, taking a closer look at a shirt before bundling and tossing it to Jamie's basket. 'We can't hope to get on stage right now.'  
'We don't have a choice, Steve. This event has been in the planning for years, we can't back out now. Not if we ever want to be invited back.' Jerry shrugged, looking up from his guitar. 'We'll work somethin' out.'  
'We're runnin' out of time to work somethin' out. We've got a week before the big show and there's no way Sam will be capable.' Steve replied, stretching out his back quickly.  
'Don't count me out just yet, Steve.' I warned, hobbling into the living room on my crutches. 'The only thing I can't do anymore is dance. The rest I've still got.'  
'But the dancin' is what gets the guys to give more.' Steve sighed, going back to his sorting.  
'We'll just have to accept a loss in tips then. We are not backin' out of this show.' I grinned, sinking down in my armchair and hooking the footstool. 'It's not like I intended to do this, anyway.'  
  
I had been so stupid, a little accident that had effectively put me out of action for twelve weeks. I was just out for my usual daily run before work and slipped on something on the pavement. Down I went and somehow managed to break my ankle in the fall. I still don't know quite how I did it but now I had to live with the consequences.  
'Question.' Jamie started, plopping down on the second couch. 'Why is Sam the only one flaunting their assets for some extra cash?'  
'Just what are you suggesting?' Steve asked, pausing in his sorting again.  
'Exactly as I said, why is Sam the only one flaunting their assets for extra money?' Jamie repeated, stretching out comfortably and looking at Steve.  
'Because we'd look fuckin' scary in miniskirts and bandeau tops.' Jerry replied, still strumming away lazily. 'Why the sudden interest in cross-dressin'?'  
'sometimes I swear ya bein' purposefully dense.' Jamie sighed, lifting his head. 'I ain't sayin' that at all. Why are we hidin' while Sam's showin' so much?'  
'I think I get what Jamie's tryin' to suggest.' I nodded, shifting a little and trying to find a better position for my ankle. 'But perhaps the best idea would be for you to show us what you mean.'  
'Just so long as I'm not the only one who ends up goin' through with it.' Jamie sighed, rolling off the couch and standing.  
'If it's a solid idea, I'll go along with it.' Steve promised, finishing the sorting and handing Jamie his basket of clean clothes.  
  
Partly dreading just what Jamie might come up with, I settled back and listened to Jerry playing something indistinct as Steve gathered up the smaller baskets and whisked them away to where they belonged. His chores done for the moment, Steve returned with his bodhrán and settled on the couch, tapping out a rhythm that blended with whatever it was Jerry was playing.  
  
Jamie returned a few minutes later and I had to do a double take to be sure I wasn't dreaming. If this was his plan, there was no way women would be able to ignore them. I was struggling to resist the urge to touch and I was more like his sister than a love interest. But there in a ragged pair of pants that had clearly seen better days and a blue vest worn mostly open, I could see how any woman would want a piece of Jamie.  
'This is your grand plan?' Jerry asked, looking up again and shaking his head. 'No woman is going to pay more to see that.'  
'I wouldn't be so sure about that, Jerry.' I corrected, trying to pick up my jaw. 'I'm interested and that's no easy thing to manage.'  
'I don't know about this Jamie, I don't have the confidence you do.' Steve sighed, toying with his hair nervously. 'I couldn't go out in public dressed like that.'  
  
Now that really was a crying shame as far as I was concerned, Steve had a great figure and was a great guy to know. He was just painfully shy and really felt more comfortable without a lot of attention towards him.  
'Hmm, well pick an area that you'd feel comfortable focusing attention towards.' I guided, motioning for Jamie to turn around. 'Damn Jamie, you'll have the women screamin' when ya step out like that.'  
'I guess my abs or my shoulders, I'm kinda proud of those areas.' Steve shrugged, still playing with his hair as he looked at me.  
'Okay, we can work with that. Go change into the pants and boots ya plan on wearin' for the show.' o grinned, turning my attention to the other two as Steve left the room. 'Jerry, go grab some of those prop weapons we've got stashed. A pair of pistols and a sword will work for this. Jamie, grab two of Jason's longest sashes and my sewing kit. The colours don't matter, just whatever you can find.'  
  
By the end of the day I'd turned the mismatched sashes into a weapon harness that framed Steve's washboard abs and highlighted the strength in his shoulders without revealing too much more than that. I mounted the pistols to the front of his hips, pinning the material exactly where he wanted it and slung the sword across his back, hilt accessible over his left shoulder.

~#~#~#~#~#~

I made a semi-permanent home at the hospital, dividing my time between the two ICU rooms where Steve and Jamie were fighting for their lives. At first it seemed like they both would make it and I planned out how to tell them about Jerry. It didn't feel real that I had buried him alone, standing a silent vigil as he was lowered into the ground beside Jason. I still wish Jamie or Steve could have been there, but they were both fighting for their lives so I had to do it alone.  
  
Every day was the same thing, I'd spend a few hours sitting beside Jamie, talking about the things we'd do when he left hospital and then I would go for lunch. After lunch, I'd spend the afternoons with Steve, repeating my conversation with him and looking for any signs of recovery. After a week of this, I got a flicker of hope when Steve responded to my touch, squeezing my fingers lightly. It wasn't much but it was at least something.  
  
It wasn't to be though, Steve took a turn for the worse and I was left to make an impossible choice. I reached out to Steve's family, trying to find out what they wanted for their son but they told me they wanted nothing to do with him anymore. Three weeks after the crash, I held Steve's limp body to my chest and wept as his life support was turned off. I hated myself in that moment but I knew it was the best thing for Steve.  
  
I still don't know how Jamie survived the crash, he'd looked such a mess when he was pulled from the wreck that I thought I'd be burying three friends. But no, he proved to be a stronger man than I ever gave him credit for. He clawed his way back from the brink, surprising everyone when he awoke from his coma a week after I buried Steve. I swear he smiled when he saw me standing over his bed but the doctors say that's impossible with his brain damage. I say the hell with them, I know what I saw. They don't give Jamie enough credit, he's a stubborn bastard.  
  
It was all in his eyes, the deep blue pools begging me to explain what had happened. Perching on the edge of his bed, I clutched his hands lightly in my own and told him everything from the moments after the crash through the last month until his regaining consciousness. So many emotions flashed through his eyes, too fast for me to read them all. Releasing his left hand, I reached up and wiped away the silent tears that had fallen, determined to make sure Jamie knew I would always be there for him.  
  
Speaking with his doctor, I came to realise just how serious this was but that knowledge only made me even more determined to do right by Jamie. Most of the medical jargon went right over my head but I did come to understand that Jamie's head had bounced around a few times during the crash and his air supply had been compromised by the trapped bandana he'd been wearing. As a result had suffered severe brain damage, no one could be sure how bad it was until he had had time to heal but it didn't look good. He'd also somehow twisted his spine in a way it wasn't meant to go and would spend the rest of his life confined to a chair.

~#~#~#~#~#~  
~#~#~#~#~#~

Ya know, I never really believed in all that stuff about your life flashin' before ya eyes when ya dyin', always figured that was some garbage to make people more willin' ta believe in an afterlife. But ya know, it's actually truth. I know it's my time, I can feel it with every breath I strain for. I can't help but wonder if this is how Jerry felt in his last moments, I'd like to hope not but I can't stop my mind going there.  
  
I can't remember quite what happened. We were heading home after a night out to celebrate Jamie's birthday. I know we were close to home, I can kinda recognise the building outside. Can't say if someone hit us or if I lost control, I just know we flipped and rolled. Everything was sideways when we stopped and Jamie was silent.  
  
Chokin' on my own blood, my vision is fadin' fast and I know I'm not long for this world. I know I'm gonna die and I ain't scared. There's Jason, smilin' as he reaches out to me with both hands. And Jerry's here too, guitar over his shoulder as he looks on. Steve is here too, a fond look in his eyes as he beckons to me again. Jamie too, whole and perfect once more, one hand on Jerry's shoulder as he nods.  
  
Can hear the paramedics talkin' to me but I don't wanna listen, I don't wanna stay. It hurts too much, but I'm startin' to go numb. The world darkens around me and I let go. I feel so cold, my body numb and unresponsive. I can vaguely hear the paramedics tryin' to revive me but it's too late. I slip away and return to my band mates, reuniting JaSa in death.


End file.
